


Awaken The Void

by A_Random_NPC



Series: Voidsinger [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Random_NPC/pseuds/A_Random_NPC
Summary: This is a preface for a new series called 'Voidsinger'. This series will follow the tale of Sinnlyra Voidsinger, a ren'dorei tailor, as she recovers memories she lost in an accident during the events of World of Warcraft: Legion.
Series: Voidsinger [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796173
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Awaken The Void

_She knew not where she was, nor the time, nor date. All she knew were whispers as loud as raucous screams and the broken visages of beautiful monstrosities. The world around her was shattered, that much she knew, it’s twisting valleys crumbling into magnificent peaks which faded into depthless oceans of impossibly lush forests. The constant barrage made her scream, though when she opened her mouth, only silence reigned. How long she had suffered in this torment, she did not know. Her mind was fragmented, lost among constellations and shards of glass that caressed instead of cut her skin. Somehow, she held onto herself, though who that self was she could not say. All she knew was loss, and fear, and madness._

“It appears our wayward guest is coming around.” 

_A whisper, somehow more Real than anything she had heard before. She felt her Self rising, reaching for that whisper just as much as she dared not touch it. The world swirled around her, sending her plunging into a galaxy of eiderdown and silk that sliced her like razors. Even as she bled a thousand stars from a thousand wounds forming more constellations strewn across the endless sky, she reached out, yearning to hear that whisper once again._

“She is very weak. It is… Surprising… That she survived.”

_Another whisper, this time closer. She whirled, looking for the source, the shreds of her mind whirling around her like a cloak. As she searched, each fragmented part of her Self wrapped around her like a cocoon. She knew once it was complete, she would be free. Using her broken hands to climb, she reached a precipice that spanned for eons before her, dotted with hoards of glowing orbs, each one dancing upon a current of violet wind. She shivered, feeling it press against her, trying to rip away the shroud of Memory she had wrapped around herself. The tattered cloak whipped against her legs, threatening to push her off the cliff back into darkness, but she steeled herself before pressing onward, the cracked and bleeding ground solidifying with each step._

“There is no way she can stand much more of this. We must pull her out if she is to survive intact. Umbric, what is your decision?”

_The name floated around her as she desperately grasped at the sparks of her being that winked in and out around her like fireflies. A great expanse of land lay before her, the nodding heads of flowers under a relentless wind made of grinning skulls and broken wings of birds. She leapt after the sparks that flew around her, instinctively knowing that somehow, she must bring all of them to her Memory if she were to survive. The breath of cold brushed her neck here, the heady scent of an unknown baked good there. A large star hung before her, one that scratched her hands relentlessly as she grasped it and pulled it into the core that was… Her. She suddenly could name the sensation - a wool blanket full of static on a cold winter’s day. Suddenly, two massive suns rose from the plains, a mere eternity away. She began running towards them, snatching memories from the air as she passed, desperate to get to them. The skull flowers laughed, nipping at her heels, their broken wings beating against her legs, holding her back. She sobbed, frantic in her need to reach those two shining orbs, fearing what would happen if she lost them._

“Wake her up. We’ll salvage what we can if she survives it. A pity, to see one of our own wasting away like this. If she’s a mind left after all of this, she will truly be something to behold.”

_“No,” she screamed, feeling something pulling her away from her goal. The warmth of the orbs faded into darkness as she was forced across the field of broken flowers, the fireflies buzzing angrily around her as she clawed the ground, trying to stay. “No, you can’t! You cannot take me yet! I need them!” She fell to the ground, clawing her way toward the orbs she knew would heal her heart, her mind, and her soul. Another tug sent her tumbling further away from them, the shattered remains of her mind flickering hashly against her skin._

“She resists, Magister.”

“Try again.”

_The words pried her hands from the soil, turning it into broken blades in her grasp. She screamed, feeling her Self fragmenting under the pressure. She sobbed when the twin orbs disappeared with a sigh beyond her sight. Deep within her chest, something snapped, and she knew in that instant that she would never be the same again. Mourning the loss more deeply than anything she had ever felt before, she opened her eyes._

\-----

“Welcome back, sister.” She stared at the blurry, unfamiliar face before her, the woman’s expression fixed in a slightly manic smile. She said nothing, pressing her eyes shut against a sudden onslaught of pain that emanated from her right temple. Her sight was fragmented, disoriented as if one of her eyes no longer worked. Her nerve endings screamed, telling her there were more things than just her eyes no longer functioning properly. Too much was wrong, this much she knew. How could she not, when she didn’t even know her own name? “Welcome to Telogrus Rift.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words made it past the dryness in her throat. The other woman huffed irritably, the puff of air ruffling her hair away from her face. A cold arm wrapped around her shoulders, lifting her from the rough woolens even as an icy cup was pressed to her lips. Liquid trickled down the sides of her mouth as she struggled to sip the water within the cup, each mouthful rejuvenating more than just her parched throat. Her hands shook as she reached up and took the cup, gasping between gulps of chilled liquid, feeling as if she would never be satiated.

“No. This will not do.” The other woman whisked the cup away from her, leaving her feeling bereft. “You’ll make yourself sick.” She licked her lips, savoring the metallic tang of the final drops of water that beaded her skin. The other woman frowned, pressing a hand to her throat. “Ah, I see. Damaged your vocal cords, did you? Easily managed.” A warm pressure built under the hand that gripped her throat, it’s throbbing pulse matching the ache in her face. It built as the woman continued to mutter until it threatened to overwhelm her, sending her careening back into the pits of darkness from where she had been found. She leaned into the hand, wishing fervently to go back to that twisted, broken landscape, if only to… If only to what?

“No need to choke yourself. We’ll have to do this systemically. You’re a mess. You wouldn’t have survived another week in this state.” The hand dropped away, leaving behind a balm of coolness in its wake. Her voice had a hollow edge to it, as if she spoke from the depths of a well. “Now. What’s your name?”

“Do… I don't know.” She hissed, her voice as rough as the gaping loss she felt in her heart. She stared at the battered and bruised hands that lay in her lap. Her own, she supposed, though she did not recognize the grey skin that covered them. “I remember… Nothing.” Her face throbbed when she said this, the pain echoing across her body. She leaned forward, drooping with exhaustion and fear at the realization that she knew nothing of herself before the moment she awakened. The blanket that lay across her lap was rough under her skeletal hands. Her hair hung limp and greasy around her, covering her face. She plucked at a tress, not recognizing the grey coloring that matched her skin. It felt… Wrong, somehow, as if it was meant to be different.

“Hmm. A pity.” The woman tossed something on the cot next to her. It landed with a solid thump, though it weighed nothing in the trembling hand she used to lift it. “This is yours. Just about the only thing they recovered with you, apparently. There are others in need of my services, so I’ll leave you to it.” It was then she noticed that she was in some kind of rough tent, though the light that filtered through the material had an odd violet hue. She frowned, knowing instinctively that was not a normal phenomenon. The pouch was heavy cloth infused with arcane magic called leyweave, though how she knew she could not say. Complex embroidery decorated the pouch, though one set of runes spelled out a word she could barely read. She traced the runes with the tip of one weak finger, sounding out the word as it formed under her questing hands.

“S- Sinn-ly-ra. Sinnlyra.” The name tasted strange as it fell from her lips but soon settled in her mind as feeling correct. “My name is…. Sinnlyra.” She weakly flipped open the metal clasp that held the pouch closed and dumped its contents into her lap. Skeins of thread, ribbons, and a pouch of needles flashed in the strange light. A broken pencil and notepad filled with sketches of clothing and arcane runes fell open under her questing hands. She stared listlessly at a sketch of an overcoat meant to be embroidered with runes for protection and healing, then flipped to one of an evening gown decorated with flowering vines in emerald thread. On and on the designs came beneath her fingers, until she finally reached the end of the notebook. Not once had she felt a twinge of recognition, not a hint of memory. She laid it aside, and viewed the ribbons dispassionately. She recognized the symbols started on one ribbon as matching the designs on the overcoat, one needle still stuck through the piece where she had apparently set it aside for later. She frowned, tapping the hammer and crown pattern.

She raked all of the belongings back into the pouch, setting it next to her pillow as she lay back, her energy spent. There was no sense of familiarity, no sense of self in these belongings. They may be hers, but they would never truly belong to her again. A sob clawed its way out of her throat as she pressed a hand to the embroidery even as her eyes drifted closed.

“I am Sinnlyra…” She whispered sleepily, her broken voice harsh in the silence of the void. “But… Who is Sinnlyra anyway?”


End file.
